


Cinema Vérité

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Hannibal is not amused, Humor, M/M, Will has a Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7780471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has been trying to learn Danish, what he's actually learning is that Denmark has some really attractive actors. Hannibal is less than amused by Will's new interest in the cinema.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cinema Vérité

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt from Anon:  
>  _I don't know if you're taking prompts, but if you are could I please have Will running into Mads, thinking he's cute, and Hannibal freaking the fuck out? I'm sure some iteration of this has been done with Nigel, but I'd really like to see it with Mads :)_

         The crowds at Torvehallerne were denser than usual, leaving Hannibal mildly irritated as he pushed into the streets heading towards København. Will had begged off the shopping trip, making a very convincing case for why he should stay in bed using only limpid eyes and a sleepy seeking mouth. Hannibal’s lip curled as he wondered whether Will was still sleep warm, the cotton sheets baking the scents of sweat and sex into his skin.

         The image of mouthing along Will’s shoulder blade and listening to him grumble to consciousness kept Hannibal company for the remaining blocks to the apartment. Slipping the key in the lock, Hannibal could hear the sound of the TV and men shouting in Danish.

         He rested the groceries on the counter, toed off his shoes and padded into the bedroom. Will was sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped protectively in the white down comforter, intently watching a bald man with RESPECT tattooed on his head. The man was yanking on his penis while two bored looking women waited impatiently for him to achieve an erection. Hannibal could sympathize with the women’s apathy. Will, however seemed enraptured. 

         “How many times must you watch this movie?”

         Will jumped in the bed, clutching the plush comforter to his chest.

         “JESUS! I’m getting you a fucking bell.” Will paused the movie. Hannibal raised an eyebrow, and Will flushed under the scrutiny. “You wanted me to learn the language!”

         Hannibal sighed and walked to the pile of DVDs next to the television. He grabbed them turned to Will.

         “ _Pusher II_ starring Mads Mikkelsen;” He tossed the DVD next to Will. “ _Jagten_ starring Mads Mikkelsen; _En Kongelig Affære_ starring Mads Mikkelsen; _Efter Brylluppet_ starring Mads Mikkelsen; and three seasons of _Rejseholdet_ starring, oh look, Mads Mikkelsen….I’m beginning to believe the theme you’ve developed isn’t Danish, Will.”

         “Actually, his name is pronounced _Mads_ , like _mess_.” Will glared defiantly from under the piles of blankets and DVDs.

         “Apologies,” Hannibal turned to the television, where Mr. Mikkelsen’s ass was still frozen. “You’ll be fluent in no time with this type of devotion.”

         “You should be flattered,” Will was flushed and Hannibal could vaguely scent fresh arousal in the air. He wondered just how closely Will had been watching the movie. “He looks like you.”

         Hannibal squinted at the television.

         “I’m reasonably sure I’ve never had a tattoo on my head. Though I’m truly flattered that a skinhead makes you think of me.”

         Will rolled his eyes, reaching for the tablet on the nightstand. His thumbs tapping frantically, he turned the screen, offering Hannibal the results of his image search. It seemed that a few photographers had managed to wrestle the actor into a suit, but Mr. Mikkelsen’s default look seemed to be dirty hair and workout clothing. Dear god, were those…Adidas capri pants?

         “See? He’s got something.” Will shrugged.

         “Not shampoo, evidently.”

         Will cocked his head at Hannibal and smiled, eyes bright.

         “You’re fucking jealous.”

         Hannibal’s mouth grew tight at the edges.

         “I’m incredulous,” Hannibal sniffed. “Cheap clothes, unruly hair, swilling beer-”

         “You’re right Hannibal, he doesn’t sound like my type. He sounds like yours.” Will stood, allowing the comforter to fall forgotten to the floor. Hannibal found it hard to maintain his glare when Will pressed his naked body to Hannibal’s chest, pecking soft little kisses along his jaw.

         Hannibal ducked into a kiss, sucking on Will’s lower lip as his hands wandered down. Hannibal began nipping along the tendon in Will’s throat, drinking in the pleased hum his ministrations received. The doctor drew back slightly, wanting a quick glance at Will’s adoring face.

         Only, Will’s eyes weren’t clouded with lust and adoration. Rather, they were, but they weren’t looking at Hannibal.

         They were fixed just to the left of Hannibal, where an annoying Dane with an equally annoying posterior were still frozen on the screen.  

         “I’ll just leave you two then, shall I?” Hannibal hissed, detangling himself from Will. 

         “Hannibal? Hannibal, come on! I’ll turn it off. Hann-”

         The door slammed. Will ran a frustrated hand through his curls, hard and panting in the middle of the bedroom. He looked at the television and sighed.

         “This is all your fault,” He muttered at the image. He glanced down at his cock, still primed. “But since we’re alone again…”

* * *

         When Hannibal appeared the next morning, looking rumpled and sleepless, Will was in the kitchen, the news blaring in the background.

         “Just in time, I’ve finally figured out how to poach eggs to perfection!”

         Hannibal looked at the kitchen where two cartons of eggs, were open, shells everywhere. There seemed to be yolk on Will’s calf, but Hannibal kept his mouth shut.

         “I know how you hate apologizing on an empty stomach, so please, dig in,” Will offered Hannibal a plate of watery eggs and a fork. Hannibal grimaced, but resigned himself to the jiggling mess as he sat at the kitchen table.

         “What apology do I owe you?”

         Will forked into the eggs, spreading yolk around the plate, before looking up.

         “One, you acted like a jealous child over a married straight man who I’ve never even met. Two, you stormed out of here without talking after we both agreed that both stabbing and leaving were unacceptable responses to anger, remember?” Will took a bite of egg, made a face and pushed the plate away. He offered Hannibal a pile of toast and sausage instead.

         “Will, I-”

         “Three,” Will interrupted, waving sausage in Hannibal’s face. “You were out all night killing god knows who with god knows what and I didn’t even get a fucking text. You reek of sweat, adrenaline, and copper, Hannibal, don’t think I don’t know what that means. ”

         Hannibal bit the sausage in Will’s fingers, which was at least heated through.

         “I’ve lost you so many times, Will - to Jack, to Molly, to the ocean,” Hannibal looked down at the ruined eggs. “Occasionally I feel myself waiting for the next person to take you away from me.” 

         Hannibal’s lap was filled with Will in the blink of an eye, the empath straddling him and twining his fingers through Hannibal’s hair.

         “You never lost me Hannibal. Not once,” a quick kiss to the crown of the doctor’s skull. “I kept coming back, didn’t I? I kept seeking you out. You’re mine just as irrevocably as I’m yours. No crush on a Danish dreamboat is going to change that, you ridiculous man.”

         Hannibal pressed his face to Will’s chest, the scent of him soothing after a cold night alone. Hands settled on his shoulders, pushing him back.

         “You still owe me one hell of an apology, Dr. Lecter.” Will moved to sit on the table, legs spreading wide.

         “I do? How should I apologize, Will?” Hannibal stood and leaned forward, caging Will between his arms.

         “With your mouth.” Will punctuated the command with a filthy kiss.

         “I’m very sorry, Will.” Hannibal’s voice was sincere, even as his eyes danced in amusement.

         Will laughed.

         “Yeah, not remotely what I meant,” He tangled his hand in Hannibal’s hair and pushed the doctor to his knees.

         Hannibal was nibbling Will’s thigh when the newscaster’s voice caught their attention.

         “Søgningen fortsætter Mads Mikkelsen, der blev meldt savnet fra det sæt af sin nyeste film tidligt i går aften. Skuespilleren blev sidst set indtaste en lokal bar for en dart turnering.”

         Will froze, the hand gripping Hannibal’s hair tightening as he pulled the doctor’s head back. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Hannibal’s response.

         "After breakfast we should probably leave the country.“

         "JESUS! Every fucking time with you…I’ll get the passports” Will shoved past Hannibal, intent on sorting through their pile of passports.

* * *

         The train was crowded. Even in the privacy of their sleeper berth the noise from pressing masses filtered through. Hannibal had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past hour, engrossed in something on the laptop. Unable to filter out the noise and mildly bored with watching the countryside race by, Will decided to bother his cannibal for a while. 

         Flopping next to Hannibal on the cramped bed, Will was mildly irritated when his presence wasn’t even acknowledged. Hannibal was fixated on the screen, where a man with wide blue eyes was stuttering about sexual arousal.

         “What’s this?”

         Hannibal started, which made Will glare.

         “An interesting film about someone along the Autism spectrum. A lot of the psychology is outdated, but the performance is compelling.”

         Were Hannibal’s cheeks slightly pink?

         “I’ve seen him before.” Will squinted at the screen, the eyes, there was something about the eyes.

         “Oh?”

         “Yeah! That other movie, about the psycho mom and son? He’s the dude from the threesome, right?”

         “I hadn’t noticed.”

         Will tensed his jaw.

         “You notice when I fold your sweaters against the weave. You notice when I am getting sick three days before the fever hits. But you don’t notice the same blue-eyed baby-faced little-”

         “Hugh Dancy does have a jejune quality to his face, but I would hardly qualify it as-” Hannibal closed his mouth, Will sneered.

         “You have six movies on that fucking laptop. If I go through them, would I find that blue-eyed infant in each one?”

         Hannibal’s eyes narrowed.

         “Well, I was hoping to download the latest Mads Mikkelsen film but I’ve heard it’s been delayed until they find him.”

         Will bit his lip, considering. He reached forward and snapped the laptop closed, tossing it across the berth on to the padded bench.

         “From now on, we stick to books,” Will whispered against Hannibal’s mouth tugging him down on the bed. 

**Author's Note:**

>  ****  
>  _*no Mikkelsens were harmed in the writing of this fic_  
>   
> 
>  
> 
> **Translation:**  
>  _The search continues for Mads Mikkelsen, who was reported missing from the set of his latest film early yesterday evening. The actor was last seen entering a local bar for a darts tournament._


End file.
